Faithfully (Club Decadence) (6 page)

“I’m so ashamed, Peter.   I’m almost
forty years old.  I know better.”

“Then this will serve as a reminder. 
When we are done here we’ll reset, you’ll be forgiven and we’ll move on.”

Kneeling beside her he immediately started
the spanking.  Usually he started out slow, bring the heat and color slowly to the surface of her skin.  Not this time.  He started with full, open-handed slaps which he made sure were applied to every square inch of her bottom. 

Joanna lost count at
twenty-five and her ass began to really sting.  He showed no sign of stopping and continued on for several more minutes.   Joanna stayed silent for the most part, but began to wiggle and squirm as it seemed to go on endlessly.  At her movement, Peter didn’t stop.  He only placed a firm, restraining hand on her lower back, his rhythm unbroken.  Without the usual break where he rubbed and soothed the burn, the heat in her butt had mounted to such an intense level that she kicked her feet up trying to block his hand.

This made him pause.  “Do I need to restrain your legs,
Joanna?”

“Yes Sir.  I can’t hold still, it
stings too much.”

Silently, he wrapped the leather restraints around her thigh just above her knee and
secured them to the ottoman.  “Do I need to get a spreader bar for your feet, too?”

“No Sir, I’ll be good.”

“We’ll see, won’t we?”  He resumed with the hard stinging slaps until she was yowling for him to stop. 

“Please Sir, spank my thighs, my butt can’t take anymore.”

“You’ll feel my strap on your thighs, Joanna.  Hang on, I’m almost done here.”

He obviously had a number of minutes or swats in mind and Joanna knew arguing would only up th
e tally.  So she endured somehow; the burn on her bottom now a fiery inferno of flames which he stoked higher with each swat.

Peter knew he was being harsh
with his girl, but he was intent on giving this lesson one time, and one time only.  After he landed another dozen swats on her bright red bottom, he stopped.  Using his left hand because his right was practically numb, he smoothed it over her inflamed cheeks checking for welts or bruises.  There were some deep red marks but none of the purplish areas that foretold a bruise. 

“You’ll get
ten with the tawse, five on each thigh then we’ll finish with five strokes of the cane across your bottom.  Understand?”

She nodded because she was gu
lping in long breaths of air and couldn’t speak.   He rubbed her gently, soothing her tender skin as he spoke softly, reassuring her she was a good girl, an excellent wife and mother and that he trusted she would learn from her mistake.  When her sobs had decreased to a few shuddering breaths and sniffles, Peter took up the tawse.

Peter had acquired the h
and-tooled piece of leather while in Europe a few years ago.   The Europeans seemed more tolerant of alternative lifestyles and domestic discipline had been practiced in households there for centuries.  He had picked it up in a leather shop in Amsterdam.  The two-tongued Scottish tawse was a sturdy piece of leather with a smooth reinforced handle.  It was of medium weight and 2 ½ inches wide.  It had been broken in quickly on his naughty girl, but the need had trickled off lately.  Still it held up well under use, still rigid enough to sting but flexible enough not to injure if used with a cool head and skilled hand.

“Five on each thigh, on my count.  This is
going to go fast.” 

He
wasn’t kidding.  He applied the biting piece of leather in parallel swats down her thigh; starting at her sit spot and ending just above the top of the restraint above her knee.  There was little overlap and by the time he was done the entire back of her thigh was on fire.

“Oo… ah… eeeee
, Peter stop that burns like fire!”   She hadn’t thought anything could be worse than the heat on her ass.  She couldn’t remember him having used the strap on her thighs before.  The double tongued strap swung together but the air separated the two straps so it was like getting two lashes when it landed.  She heard him count five and exhaled in relief.  Foolishly she thought he would give her a break, but her brain exploded when he moved right on to the other thigh and laid down a blazing trail of fire that would make the devil himself envious.

“Yowwww!” was
her sustained cry until the fifth and final thwack landed and she relaxed her tight muscles.

Again
, he knelt beside her and his warm hand returned to soothe, stroke and assess for damage. 

“Peter if the cane is worse tha
n the tawse, I think I may pass out.”

“I expect you to take the punishment you agreed you deserved, Joanna.  Did you know that the
y still use the cane overseas to punish crimes such as yours?  Imagine if you got pulled over tonight and a judge sentenced you to a public caning?”

“I would die.” 

Peter huffed softly and leaned over to speak softly into her ear, all the while stroking her bottom.  “No you wouldn’t.  It would hurt like hell, but you would survive.  And I guarantee I won’t cut and scar you like what you’d receive in Singapore after a stunt like tonight.”

Sufficiently chastised by his truth, she shut up.  Five strokes wouldn’t kill her
and she would make damn sure she never did anything like this to earn a repeat performance.

“Do you want to continue or do you need a longer break?”

“I want to continue and get it over with.”  She turned her head to look at him.  His handsome face was close enough to kiss and she wanted this punishment to end so she could crawl into his arms and begin to forget it.  “Will you hold me afterwards?”

His answer was a soft smile.  The first one she’d seen since he’d tasted the wine on her tongue over an hour ago.  “Oh darlin’, you know I will.”  His eyes turned serious.  “I really don’t enjoy this type of punishment
, Joanna.  I’m not a sadist and I know you aren’t a masochist.  I’d rather be in our bed, giving you easy swats that lightly sting your bottom, your inner thighs and even that delectable pussy.  I’d create a sexual heat so scorching hot that you’d beg for me to come deep inside you.  That’s the kind of spanking that makes playing enjoyable.”

“As odd as it sounds
to apologize to the spanker, I’m sorry I made you do this Peter.”

“Ours might be an odd way but it works for us.  Now let’s get this over with so I can kiss away that fiery ache that has been building between your legs.” Her mouth fell open in shock and this time he laughed.

“Baby, your juices have been dripping down your thighs since I walked in here.   You might not like the punishment but you get off on the loss of control, the restraints, the naughty position and the power I command over you.”  She blushed furiously and he kissed her warm cheeks.  “Don’t fret darlin’.  You are the yin to my yang.  For all those things you like, I like giving to you.  You are the submissive to my dominance.  We are a perfectly matched pair.

“I love you so much, Peter.”

“I love you too, my beautiful Joanna.  Now let’s finish this.”

The cane felt like nothing she had ever experienced. 
Peeking back over her shoulder, she expected him to lift his arm and put his strength behind each blow.  Instead, he flicked it at her and a sensation like a thousand bee stings spread in a burning line across both cheeks. 

“Oouuuccchhhh!  Holy Mother of Christ.”
  She cursed and panted as the fire blazed, throwing her head back and arching her back as much as the restraints would allow.  Her fingers spread wide at the peak and then clenched into fists as a shudder passed through her.  Her toes pattered against the floor as much as her restraints would allow. 

“Breathe, darlin’,” he encouraged
and then waited a few minutes before another stroke.  The slow administration prolonged the punishment, but laying them down too quickly would bring only the initial stinging of the stroke.  He was using a light whippy cane which he had learned could be used for punishment, but often was used as a sensual tool to stimulate pleasurable sensations and erotic pain. 

Time
between strokes allowed the sting to turn into a deep burn that would stimulate the fire in the submissive’s core.  As Joanna felt the sting convert to the deep burn, she moaned in response and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on her back.  If he’d whipped her too quickly her body wouldn’t have been able to assimilate the deeper sensations, turning the deep burning into pleasure and she wouldn’t have experienced the true pleasure of the cane. 

Al
though this was punishment, she had already shown guilt, shame and remorse for her actions.  If she hadn’t, he would have let her experience only the stinging effects.  But he couldn’t do that tonight.  So he repeated the process four more times, laying the cane in perfectly spaced lines from the middle of her already red ass cheeks, to the last one which he applied to her sit spots. After the final stroke she collapsed upon the ottoman, limp in her restraints.

Peter
quickly removed her restraints and left her to rest for a few minutes.  He cleaned the implements and returned everything to the locked chest in the closet.  Grabbing her soft fluffy robe he also collected the tube of Arnica gel that would help soothe her inflamed skin, minimize bruising and help her heal.  It wouldn’t take away all of her discomfort, that would defeat the purpose of the entire evening.  But he loved her, cared for her, and didn’t want to see her suffer more than necessary.

“I’m going to put on the Arnica, and then we can cuddle in bed.”

“That sounds nice.”

She hissed at the first touch of the cooling gel
, but then sighed as it temporarily diminished the sting.  When he had covered her bottom and thighs, he wrapped the robe around her and helped her to stand.  She immediately curled into him, seeking his strength, comfort and warmth.  She shuddered a bit as her skin chilled in the aftermath. 

“Let’s get you in bed, darlin’.”

She nodded eagerly and walked with him to their bed.  Crawling into the middle of their king-sized bed she lay on her belly and pulled up the back of her robe before snuggling down into the pillows.  Once again her bare bottom was exposed, but this time enjoying the coolness of the room.  

Leaving the l
amp burning on the night stand, Peter turned off all the other lights and climbed in bed next to her, pulling her securely into his arms.  She readily exchanged her pillow for his warm, muscular arms and chest and snuggled up against him.  

Drowsily, she looked at the bedside clock.  “Jace will be home in
fifteen minutes.  He’ll want to spend some time with you.”

“I missed him, too.  You rest and I’ll see to him.”

“He’ll be starved,” she yawned, always drained after a punishment session.  “There’s stuff for sandwiches or I have some pizza coupons.”

“No problem, I’ll take care of it.”  Just then, they heard the door slam. 
Peter had left the door ajar just for that reason.  He gave the half asleep Joanna a kiss on the top of her head, then shifted her weight off him.  Grabbing his jeans and slipping on his T-shirt he ordered.  “Don’t move from this bed until morning, understood?”

“Yes Sir.”  She
grinned at her gorgeous husband. “Sorry for the crappy homecoming, honey.”

“You will make it up to me later, count on it.”  Bending over the bed he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to each flaming red cheek, before pulling the thin sheet up and over her body.   He then left to find
their son. 

The next day morning Joanna woke in her husband’s arms.  She
was surprised she had slept all the way through.  Rising up on an elbow, she moaned as her muscles and behind protested and then flopped back down on top of Peter. 

“Sore, baby?”

“Yeah.  I might need the morning in bed.”

“That’s fine
, but I have one piece of business for you to take care of this afternoon.  So take some Ibuprofen, a long soak, and apply more of the Arnica gel.  We need to get you in shape for an anniversary celebration tonight.”

“Sounds like
a good plan.  I almost forgot.  Happy Anniversary, honey.”  She leaned in and gave him a sweet, good morning kiss.

“Happy Anniversary, darlin’, I love you more that the day we married.”

“Me too.”  They held each other close for a few minutes then the alarm went off and spoiled the mood.  “What is the errand you need me to do?”

He rolled away and retrieved a paper from the nightstand.  “First, I
want you to explain this.”

He held their Bank of America statement and pointed to the single charge from a week ago for $645.  Uh-oh. 

“What’s the rule?”

“No purchases over $500 without discussing it with each other.”

“That’s level one, babe.  So this afternoon you will take it back.”

“But it’s your anniversary present.”

“I appreciate that, but we budgeted for no more than $250 on gifts this month.  We both agreed.”

“But Peter, it’s our
Twentieth. It’s special.”